Salvation
by justme6565
Summary: Formerly "Needs."  The Doctor makes the ultimate sacrifice. Salvation, however expensive, comes at the hand of his most loyal friend. Twoshot. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Eons of mighty civilization- who was he to destroy it? How could he? They were his people, however infamous he might be amongst them. They defined him, though in his previous seven incarnations, and truth be told, most of his current one, he had tried so hard to deny that, tried so hard to separate himself, to flee from what he really was, who he really was. And now he paid the price for it. He so much wanted to believe in Rassilon's Ultimate Sanction, wanted to ascend with his people. Screw time and space and the whole goddamn Universe- he would survive, his people would survive, and the rest, well the rest didn't matter.

No. Ethically, he couldn't do it. He'd seen too much, been a part of too much. He'd known too many people, and witnessed too much of every being's life. He'd known too many humans. Ace, Sarah Jane, Liz, they'd all cease to exist. Time-Lords could live without Time; humans couldn't. And Susan. Perhaps she'd survive, but David wouldn't. And what if the two had had children? They wouldn't be pure Time-Lords themselves, even if they had some Gallifreyan blood, without having stared into the Vortex, and they'd disappear like the primates they really were. It would break Susan's heart.

It wasn't just about her, though, or any of his shining companions, dear friends, for that matter, and the Doctor knew it. He had to choose between his people and all peoples. His home and all homes. His happiness and all the happiness in the Universe. Who was he to have a people, a home, happiness, when nothing else could? Objectively, there was no choice to make. For the continuation of everything, he'd have to destroy _his _everything. And it wasn't okay. But at least he wouldn't feel it.

Considering the circumstances, the plan was the best option. Gallifrey, the Crucible, all Time-Lords, all Daleks, would burn in an instant, when he activated the Moment. A Time-Lock would seal the destruction away from the Vortex, making this Death irreversible. He wondered what Omega would think if he knew what his greatest innovation was to be used for: probably die of shame. Shame would haunt the Doctor too, if he were to live, but he wouldn't have to do so. The only consolation he had was that he would burn with his people. It would happen so quickly he wouldn't feel it, wouldn't have time to regenerate, that soul-crushing remorse, worse than anything that could possibly happen to him externally, would not set in, he would never have to be alone.

The traveler-come-home saw the Crucible overhead, and knew that the moment was now. Briefly, he thought of the TARDIS, the last Type 40 in the Universe, floating somewhere out there, that he never had fixed that Chameleon Circuit, and should some archeologist find it, billions of years now, trillions of light-years away, they'd think that all Time-Lords traveled in 1963 Earth Police Boxes. He almost smiled as the Moment burst to life and the flames engulfed the last of his identity.


	2. Chapter 2

He watched his burning home grow more and more faint as he ascended. Was this death? He hadn't banked on this. After so much traveling, seeing so much, and watching so many people die, watching so many simply fade out of life and memory, he was resolved to the idea that an afterlife was nonexistent. His sanity was counting on that very notion, that he'd have no time to reflect on his actions, no time to feel that remorse…

Feel! He could still feel. He was still burning with the flames he'd ignited over his planet. Surely if he were dying, the pain would have ceased. Not dead. Alive. Conscious. Ascending…. Damn! Damn damn damn damn! He'd been too late- Rassilon had already begun the Ultimate Sanction; Time was dying at the hands of his people- might as well have been his own hands, if he were to reap its "rewards", as seemed imminent, and he was powerless, pathetically floating above a dying world, _his _dying world- crumbling citadels in their cracked glass domes, silver leaves dissipating into mere ashes, mountains of red grass that seemed to simmer and melt in the roaring fires… the same roaring fires consuming him, and damn, were they painful!

They were painful! He was experiencing pain! Which meant that he still had neurons, which meant that he still had a body, which meant that he was still composed of matter! Matter still existed! He _had_ prevented the Ultimate Sanction. This brought relief for an instant, until the memory of the price paid for such a feat returned to him, and, with it not only a powerful urge to vomit, but also a deep sense of shame that he had forgotten, even momentarily. _This_ was been why he'd wanted to die- his life would now consist of little more than constant dry heaves (seeing as he would no longer have any appetite), and shame, a deep guilt, wrenching every fiber of his being from the core of his soul to the tips of every strand of hair and nail.

He must determine a way to end it. Suicide, though more difficult for a Time-Lord than most other beings, was not impossible. And it was a cowardly option, sure, but then again, he had never been all that brave. As a child, he'd put himself on such a pedestal, made himself seem like the coolest rookie in the Academy, even deluded himself into arrogance simply to hide the fact that he was terrified- terrified that he wouldn't be good enough to do what was expected of him, terrified of regeneration, of literally dying and another man waking up with all his memories and his identity (something, though he'd experienced it seven times now, that still scared him witless in the final moments preceding the burst of energy). He was, in short, terrified of being a Time-Lord. The delusions of egotism were his way of running, an urge that had been instilled in him when he was eight years old. He was too insignificant to guard the vastness of time, and knew it, even as a boy, and so he ran from his duty by deceiving himself until he was old enough to steal a TARDIS and literally run. And suicide was, in a sense, "the last great run." Fitting- The Last Great Run to end the Last Great Time War. Had he believed in Fate, he would've thought it "meant to be."

He needed to be practical about ending his life, however. It was not as simple as shooting himself, of coarse, (he hadn't a gun anyway. His body and mind were weapon enough for the War), and jumping wouldn't do him any good- he'd simply regenerate. What he needed was a hitman, someone he could trust to shoot him twice- once to begin regeneration, and once to end it. He'd go to 51st century Earth- best hitmen in the cosmos. Leave it to the humans to be reliable killers, the primates…

Except, it dawned on him, that his TARDIS was billions of light-years away. And he was still ascending- and had no idea why, or for how long he would continue to do so…

And suddenly, he did just that, ceased floating. He felt his feet planted firmly on the ground of some surface, and for a moment he didn't recognize it, couldn't recognize it, because it was so unbelievable that, having just destroyed one home, he should find himself in another, especially the one he had sent so far away. Half in affection, half in anger, he reached for the central consul he knew so well.

"I sent you away!" he spat angrily to it.

_That is the thanks I get for saving your life, then?_

"You…? How? I left you near Raxacoricofallapatorius, five billion years ago!"

_You pride yourself to think that my position in Time and Space is dependent on you- I can fly myself perfectly well. _

"…How did you bring me here?"

_Huon particles. I've been bathing you in them for quite a while now._

"You had no right…"

_I could not let you perish in the flames._

"That was my one wish, you stupid machine, to burn with my people! Face my actions properly for the first time in my life! And you had to douse me with Huon- not only to stop me from burning, no, but also to lift me away from my home, WHICH WILL NEVER EXIST AGAIN, ANYWHERE IN TIME AND SPACE! I WANTED TO DIE THERE!"

_It was my home too, Doctor. And it was never your intention to face your actions. You wanted to burn so you _wouldn't_ have to do so. Do not suggest that I do not understand you and your motives. I am the only one who ever has._

"I'm the only one left…"

_I know. I'm sorry._

"I'm a murderer… double genocide."

_You did what you needed to do. Millions of peoples will live because of your actions._

"Mother… Father… Kosechi…. Ushas… All dead…. my fault…. Alone. I'm completely alone."

_You were never alone, my dear Doctor. I have been here with you since the day we stole each other._

"I want to die. Please, just bring me back. Let me burn."

_You know I cannot bring you back. The end of the War is sealed in a Time Lock. But the Huon is wearing off. The flames will bring about your regeneration._

"Regeneration… all alone this time…"

_You will you never be alone. I will be with you until your end._

"I can't regenerate near you! There's too much energy; it'll destroy you. You've got to land, and leave me."

_I shall land, and then we shall regenerate together. I will not leave you._

"You'd do that, Old Girl? You'd die for me? Because regeneration is like dying- worse."

_All we've ever had, Doctor, is one another. I shall stay with you until your end, no matter the price. _

The Doctor's lips formed a ghost of a smile as he heard the _whoosh_ of the TARDIS landing. "Where are we this time?" he asked, faintly, feeling the pressure of regeneration bubbling inside him, knowing the end of this life was imminent.

_London, Earth. 26 March 2005_.

"Old girl?"

_Yes, my Doctor?_

"Thank you."

_I shall protect you always, my Doctor. I shall keep you safe._

The yellow light overcame them both, and together they approached it, hand-in-hand, hurdling forward toward their singular future.


End file.
